


A Ketchmas Tale

by MissStory



Category: Supernatural
Genre: #Ketchmas, Christmas, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 22:14:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17170391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissStory/pseuds/MissStory
Summary: Ketch is always a bit grumpy this time of year. But this year his world will be turned upside down.(It still needs a bit of beta reading, but I hope you will enjoy it anyway)





	A Ketchmas Tale

Ketch was sitting in the library with a glass of his favorite scotch, a good book and some smooth Jazz playing in the background. He thought that peace would never settle in the bunker. Sam and Dean had been busy preparing for Christmas all day long. Apparently it had been years since they had a proper Christmas, so this year they wanted to go all in. Which was fine, if they would just leave him out of it.

“Come on Artie, lighten up. It´s Christmas.” Dean was balancing on a chair, while putting up a small bouquet of mistletoe in the archway, that separated the library and the entrance hall of the bunker. Since there where no ladies around it was a mystery to Ketch why Dean had insisted to hang the mistletoe at all.

“I believe I have asked you plenty of times to not call me by that name. It´s Ketch or Arthur, whatever you prefer… and no thanks I will sit this one out, if you don’t mind.”

“And what if I do mind Arti… Scrooge? It´s been some crazy ass years, so we deserve a little Christmas cheer this year,” Dean continued with a huge annoying grin on his face.

“It really has been some tough years, Ketch. So maybe bringing all the family together for a nice meal and some quality time would be great,” Sam added, looking out from behind a Christmas tree on the other side of the room. He had spent the better part of an hour trying to sort out the lights that had been curled up in huge messy knot. “Now Dean.”

“What the…” Ketch muttered as the room turned pitch black. Seconds later hundreds of small lights lit up on the Christmas tree and filled the room with a soft and warm glow. It was a beautiful sight, and for a short moment his thoughts drifted back to a much happier time. But the warm feeling disappeared just as fast as it came when Dean turned the ceiling lights on again.

“Fantastic Sammy. Now we just see if we can find some decorations in the storage,” said Dean followed by a huge yawn. “But let´s do that tomorrow and let ol´ Scrooge here read his dusty book in peace. I am beat.”

“Yes, let´s go get some shuteye and do the rest tomorrow. Night Ketch, don´t sit up to long.  You know Santa doesn’t come until you sleep.” Sam stood up and stretched with a grin on his face.

“Bah Humbug,” said Ketch and began to read again.

He could hear the brothers laugh and joke while walking down the hall to their rooms. Must be great to have some nice memories of Christmas. But thinking about it, he couldn´t remember one single nice memory. He sighed and tried to focus on the book in his lap.

Ketch opened his eyes, blinked a couple of times and grabbed the gun on the shelf beside him. He must have dozed off for a moment and a ruckus had woken him. He listened for a moment and everything seemed quiet, maybe it was something he had dreamed? Sam and Dean should surely have been storming in with blazing guns by now, had it been a real danger. He sighed deeply, placed the gun back on the shelf beside the empty glass and stood up to put on a new record, but as he reached for the needle it sounded like all the pots and pans in the kitchen had dropped on the floor at the same time.

He grabbed the gun and ran towards the kitchen. As he turned around the corner he started slipping and before he could do anything he fell backwards, and everything turned black…

 

“Hey Scroogie, wakey wakey, eggs and bakey…” an annoying screeching voice said right beside Ketch´s ear. His head was pounding, and he felt nauseous. He slowly opened his eyes and squinted. The blurred figure, who was sitting in tailoring next to him slowly became clearer. It was a pale young lady, maybe 16 or 17 years old, brown hair and serious eyes. “Come on, we don´t have all day.”

Ketch sat up with a bit of difficulty and waited for the room to stop spinning before he finally spoke.

“Who are you? How did you get into the bunker and what have you done to me?” He asked while trying to keep focus on the young girl sitting beside him. She looked familiar somehow but he couldn´t place her.

“We are losing important time,” she said and looked at an old pocket watch that suddenly appeared in her hand. “Tick Tock Scrooge, the time is running out.” She stood up and stretched her hand down to him.

“My name is Ke…”

“Ketch, Arthur Ketch,” she interrupted. “I know! Come one we´ll be late if you don´t get your pretty suit up from the floor and get moving.”

He took her hand and with a bit of difficulty she helped him to his feet. She grabbed his hand and started dragging him down the long hallways of the bunker.

“What is your name, young lady?” Ketch asked, while trying to keep up with her. Any normal day it wouldn´t be a problem but today seemed to be an off day and he still felt a bit dizzy.

“Does it matter?” She said without looking back towards him. “The important thing is that we have a place to be and we are late.” She started running and Ketch did his best to follow.

“I would prefer to know who I was in company with and where we are going?”

“Here we are,” the girl said stopping abruptly, so that he almost ran into her. “And with a minute to spare. Not bad for an old-timer like you.” Her laugh filled the empty corridors surrounding them.

“Would you please be so kind and tell me who you are and why you are here? I shall not be taking another step until I know.” Ketch put his best “do not mess with me” face on and waited.

“Fine! If I must,” she said with a poorly accent, supposedly British, no doubt to mock him. “I am a bit disappointed that you don´t recognize me. Since you where the one that put a bullet in my head.”

“Pardon me?”

“Okay, do you really need me to clap it for you! You-shot-me-in-the-head!” The last part she said loud and slow, like she was talking to an old person with a hearing problem. “Sam & Dean let me go, had faith in me. But not you! You were just there to clean up their mess,” she said, using air quotes as she said the words clean up.

“I´m afraid I do not remember, but if I did it was a…” She was so fast, that he didn´t have time to react before her hand slammed against his left cheek.

 “Do not finish that sentence Mr. Ketch!” she hissed between clinched teeth. Then she took a deep breath and let the air out slowly. Paralyzed from the surprise attack he didn´t move a muscle. He looked at the woman in front of him. He had always distanced himself from his victims, said to himself that it was just a job and for greater good. He got a job, researched and executed the order. Quick and simple. He never thought of his targets as being a person. How could he and keep his sanity? But there she was, a person and he had obviously killed her, but when and why he did not remember.

“You know what Ketch? I am was not a job! I was a real-life person with a story and finally a future. Until you came along.”

“I do apologize…”

“Magda, my name is Magda,” she said and looked at her naked wrist, as if she was looking at a watch. “Come on, you are going to be late if you don´t get moving.”

“I am truly sorry Magda. I know it means very little now, but I have changed.”

Magda tilted her head a bit to the right and looked him straight into his eyes.

“I know you have changed Artie. Do you honestly think I would be here trying to save your posh British butt if you hadn´t?”

“And who would you be saving my posh British... behind from?” Ketch said with one eyebrow raised. He was convinced that it had to be some sort of dream. Maybe he had fallen asleep while reading or maybe he had actually fallen and hit his head. One thing he was sure of. This could not be real.

“Okay K. Have you by any chance seen the movie a Christmas Carole? You know the one with the old angry dude that gets a visit from three ghost? The one that hate Christmas and acts like a douche-bag?” A smirk appeared on her face. No doubt she enjoyed mocking him.

“Yes, I believe I have seen that one a time or two. But I simply cannot see how that movie have anything to do with me?”

“Well Artie, I'm here to tell you, that when the clock reached 12, three ghosts will come visit… bla bla bla… you know the story. Time to go.” She opened the door they where standing in front, but it was pitch black inside.

“Is this some joke? Have Sam and Dean put you up to this? Answer me woman!” Ketch reached out to grab her arm, but she was to fast again. She squirmed by Ketch and pushed him into the darkness. It felt like he was falling fast, and her laugh echoed through the entire fall. After what felt forever, he landed on a cold wooden floor. The air was pressed out of his lungs and then nothing but darkness…

 

To be continued...


End file.
